She glanced at Thargen. “You seriously trusted me with this thing?”
He continued to snooze.
Yuri chuckled and shook her head, facing forward. “Of course you did. Mean, scary terran. Rawr. Anyone who comes by will take one look at me, see just how dangerous and frightening I am, and run away in terror.”
She ran her eyes over the translucent hardlight blade. It was neon orange, with faint hexagonal patterns shimmering in and out of view across its surface in waves. She’d seen what such blades could do, even before today; there wasn’t much they couldn’t cut through with enough force behind them.
Yuri cringed. “Here’s hoping I don’t cut my own leg off before you wake up.”
Holding the weapon as steady as possible, she pressed her thumb down on the depression again. She had to push so hard it started to hurt a little before the orange blade vanished.
She laid the deactivated weapon across her lap, steeled herself, and quietly stood—or rather sat—guard, scanning the surrounding forest constantly. It took no small amount of willpower to keep herself from jumping at every little sound. The alien animal calls, which were rare but distinct, were the hardest to ignore; the only comfort she could draw from them was that they hadn’t been made by the smugglers.
She paused every now and then to check Thargen. His skin was gradually cooling, the sweat had mostly evaporated, and his heartbeat remained steady even if it was slower than she would’ve liked. But there was something else, something that made her feel like she was going crazy—she swore his bruises were smaller and fainter than they’d been before. She wrote it off as a trick of her eyes; he’d said he healed quickly, but healing that fast without any medical aid?
That was impossible, wasn’t it?
And Thargen slept on, unstirring. Even if he was utterly exhausted, Yuri didn’t quite understand how he’d gone to sleep so easily, with so little apparent concern. He’d sat down, put his head back, and fallen asleep as though they weren’t stranded on an unknown planet with limited food and water, questionably useful supplies, and goodness knew how many dangerous smugglers out to get them.
Yuri was barely holding back a tidal wave of worry regarding the current situation. If she tried to settle down, to sleep, she knew that wave would break through, and it would be strong enough to keep her wide awake for days.
But it probably is exhaustion. At least mostly. That, and…he doesn’t seem to fear anything.
And why would he? Even unconscious, he was intimidating.
Intimidating and sexy. Very sexy. Lickably sexy.
Stop it, Yuri. Focus!
Yuri turned her thoughts to her family, her parents and her older brother and sister back on Earth, to her younger brother, Takashi back in Arthos, who had likely lost his shit by now wondering what had happened to her. Was he okay?
She raised a hand and ran it through her hair. At least she and Thargen were free from the cage. The situation wasn’t ideal, but they stood a chance of getting home.
Right?
Ten
At least a couple agonizing hours had to have passed by the time Thargen stirred. He groaned, cut that groan off with a grunt, and shook his head. Just like that, his eyes were open and alert.
“You’re awake!” The relief that flooded Yuri was so great that she felt as though she were about to sag to the ground. She hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge just how tense and frightened she’d been until that moment.
Yuri set the axe on the ground, dug another water cube out of the backpack, and moved to Thargen’s side to thrust the cube at him. “No arguments.”
Thargen’s hand snapped up so quick it could only have been reflex, creating a barrier that halted her thrusting arm. “Easy, terran. Give me a couple seconds, and you can shove whatever you want in my face.”
She didn’t miss how his eyes dipped toward her body—or the hungry light that sparked in them.
Heat crept up Yuri’s neck as she sat back on her heels and lowered her arm. “Sorry. It’s just that you’ve been out for hours after running yourself to near death. So as your…your doctor—yeah, we’ll go with doctor—I order you to hydrate.” She turned her hand and opened her fingers, presenting the water cube on her palm.
Thargen arched his right brow, which was bisected by a little scar. “Have you had one, doc?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Thargen took hold of her wrist and lifted her hand. He bent toward her at the same time, lowering his head. He didn’t break that eye contact as he opened his mouth and pressed his lips down onto her palm around the cube. He sucked the water cube into his mouth slowly before lifting his head.
Yuri’s heart quickened, and her sex clenched, aching with desire. “I-I guess you must be…feeling better?”
He swallowed, and his tongue slipped out to run across his upper lip. “Yeah, now that I’m hydrated.”
Her gaze locked on his tongue for the brief instant it was out.
Yuri shook her head, clearing her throat as she drew her hand away. “Good.” She returned her attention to the backpack, pulling out a pair of pants, which she held out to Thargen. “I, uh, cleaned up most of the blood.” She tipped her head toward the wadded up, bloody shirt on the ground without looking at it. “Did the best I could without anything to wash with.”
Thargen glanced down at himself and made a thoughtful hum. His expression was softer and more serious when he looked at her again. As he accepted the pants, he asked gruffly, “You did that for me?”
She frowned. “I couldn’t just leave you like that. And…it’s not like I could do much else.”
“I’ve seen what looking at blood does to you, Yuri. And you did this for me anyway.” Thargen shook his head and lifted his free hand, running it over the scars on the side of his head. “Guess it’s just a small thing, but small things tend to mean the most. Thanks.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks. “Well, you did just kind of kill someone for me, so…”
His brow furrowed, and the corners of his mouth fell. “Yeah. You, uh…you okay? I know it’s not…normal for most people, and even if he got what he deserved, I guess that could be…traumatic to watch?”
Yuri reached out and placed her hand on Thargen’s arm, looking deep into his eyes. “We…we both know what he would have done with me, and had that blaster been loaded, you would’ve been… He would have killed you. As horrifying as it was to watch, I’m fine.”
“Pfft. You think he could’ve stopped me?” He thumped his chest with his fist. “I’m your fucking orc, zoani. Gonna take more than a perverted cren with a blaster to bring me down.”
Yuri laughed, but it took her a couple seconds to pick up on the most significant words he’d said.
Your fucking orc.
My orc.
A more intense sort of warmth spread outward from her heart, filling her chest and working into her limbs. Those soft wings resumed their fluttering in her belly, making her body feel delightfully weightless.
“What does zoani mean?” she asked, withdrawing her hand from him and placing it on the backpack. “You’ve called me that several times now.”
“And I’ll call you that a lot more times before we’re through. But I gotta keep a little mystery about me, don’t I?” Thargen grinned at her, climbed to his feet, and brushed dirt and clinging blades of red grass off his ass and the backs of his thighs. When he was done, he held up his pants by their waistband and shook them out, letting their legs unfurl. “Can’t risk you losing interest.”
Not happening, Thargen. You’re mine.
Yuri’s lips spread into a wide smile as her eyes moved over his muscular body. His cock, which had been flaccid while he slept, now stood thick and erect. Bending forward, he shoved his feet into the pant legs one at a time. Each of his movements made his muscles ripple beneath his skin. Everything about him heated her blood and made her sex ache.
“I don’t think that’ll happen,” she said softly.
He paused with the pants drawn up to his knees and released a heavy breath. There was a sudden, unmistakable tension in him, but it passed in an instant. Had it just been a twinge of pain? He’d taken quite a beating during the crash…
Thargen straightened and pulled the pants up the rest of the way—not without some hard tugs and a few grunts. “I, uh… I’ll tell you what zoani means when we get back. To Arthos.”
Yuri smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.” She stood up, clasped her hands together, and raised them high over her head, closing her eyes. The stretch felt so damn good after sitting for so long—but it also made her aware of the abuse her body had taken since she’d been kidnapped. She felt like she was made up of bumps and bruises instead of flesh and bones.
Could be worse, Yuri. You could still be in that cage.
When she looked back at Thargen, he was tugging at the fabric around his crotch and adjusting the immense bulge that was his cock. His pants were more like traditional military fatigues than hers, with belt loops, clasps, and pockets, and their material less elastic—but to call those pants form-fitting would’ve been an understatement.
“Well”—he shifted the waistband from side to side—“guess these pants are good for you.”
“Why’s that?” she asked, dropping her arms to her sides.
He flashed her a toothy grin. “They’re not hiding much.”
Yuri laughed. She could definitely appreciate that fact.
He stepped to his backpack and crouched, almost as though to illustrate his point—the pants hugged his toned ass so tightly that Yuri was suddenly jealous of them. Her hands itched to run over him, and she yearned to feel his solid muscle beneath her palms.
Wasn’t I always the one who would complain about people having sex at the worst possible times in movies? Now I totally understand. Some things are just hard to resist…especially when they offer a temporary distraction from a terrible situation.
And now she needed a distraction from that distraction before her lust ran rampant—and it seemed that turning her attention back to what was important, like getting back home, was the right way to do that. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m working on it.” Thargen opened the backpack wide, and Yuri’s eyes rounded at the sight of its contents. Even in those fantasy VR games she used to play, which were brimming with medieval weaponry, she’d never seen so many knives piled together.
And he looks like he’s one item away from declaring his inventory is full.
He rummaged through the backpack, examining the items one by one. He returned some of the objects to the back and placed others on the ground beside him. After a minute or two, he grabbed Yuri’s backpack, dragged it close, and repeated the process. The pile on the ground grew.
Thargen grunted thoughtfully. “We have plenty of clothes. Enough meal bars and water cubes to last maybe two days if we’re disciplined. But a lot of this stuff looks like attachments for those auto-blasters. The optics might be useful, probably have range finding and scanning functions built in, but the rest of this is dead weight.” He gestured to the pile on the ground; most of the items were black and relatively small, devices that seemed to be pieces of greater wholes.
“We’re set on weaponry for fighting up close. Knives are balanced enough to throw in a pinch, but we’re disadvantaged at range.” Thargen nodded, scanning the open backpacks again. “We don’t have much, but we’ll manage. Just gotta improvise.”
Thargen closed the backpacks before scooping the discarded items into his arms. He stood up and walked toward the edge of the clearing, where he dumped the items unceremoniously into the bushes.
Yuri couldn’t help but check out his ass as he moved. The man did have a really, really nice ass.
He turned to face Yuri and walked back toward her, breaking the spell his glutes had cast on her.
“Why didn’t we stay with the others?” she asked—the same question she’d posed while he was running earlier. Because wasn’t a good enough answer. “Wouldn’t we have more of a chance against the smugglers if we all worked together?”
“No, we wouldn’t.” Thargen bent forward to snatch up the axe she’d set down. “That’d be like laying fresh bait for a predator and then sitting on it to wait.”
Her brows creased. “What do you mean?”
Thargen moved to the boulder, raised his free arm, and laid it against the stone. “They all had collars. Even if they were out of range for remote shocks, those things usually have tracking beacons built in.”
The axe’s hardlight blade flashed on. Thargen shifted his grip up until his thumb was against the metal axe head and pressed the blade down on the manacle binding his raised wrist. His movements were slow and controlled in a way Yuri hadn’t yet seen from him despite the tension rippling through his muscles. She pressed her lips together nonetheless, unable to help but worry as she watched him—that blade could slice through his skin as easily as hers.
A few seconds later, he lifted the axe away and shook his arm. The manacle broke apart, its pieces clanging against the rock before hitting the grass with muted thuds.
“Couldn’t that axe have removed their collars?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Thargen switched hands to repeat the process. “And those smugglers were right on our asses. So think about how that would’ve gone. Maybe I would’ve helped one or two of the prisoners before those Zulka fuckers caught up, and maybe I would’ve killed one or two smugglers in the fight.”
The blade of the axe slipped, and Thargen jerked his arm away; the manacle flung off his wrist as the axe sheared through solid stone. He lowered the weapon and met Yuri’s gaze. “But their guns would’ve worked when they pulled the triggers, and shit would’ve gone real bad. I wasn’t gonna take that risk. Not with you.”
Not with you.
The combination of his intense, golden eyes and his fervent tone sent a thrill through her. But that thrill diminished as swiftly as it had come.
How long would it be before the other escapees were recaptured? Had any of them even lasted this long? Iljibi had been terrible, but none of the others had shown any such behavior. Yuri was sure many of them weren’t much different than Thargen and herself—victims who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Still, Yuri didn’t know any of them, didn’t know what this ordeal had done to their mental states. As hard as it was to set aside compassion, she had to remember that any one of those captives might have stabbed her in the back for something as simple as a water cube. Unfortunately, out here…it was everyone for themselves.
But Yuri wasn’t alone.
If not for Thargen, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. It could easily have been Yuri jumping from that breach and breaking a leg instead of the volturian—if she would’ve survived the crash to begin with. She was sure that Thargen was the only reason she was still up and moving.
Yuri crossed her arms over her chest. As horrible as she felt for not being able to help the others, she knew Thargen was right.
He deactivated the hardlight axe, moved to stand in front of her, and took her chin in his big hand, angling her face up toward his. “The stuff they were hauling is worth a lot of credits. They’re not going to give it up.” He lowered his face until it was mere centimeters from hers. “And I’m not giving you up.”
Yuri reached up and covered his hand with hers. “What now? What are we going to do?”
“Well…the best plans are, uh…fluid, right?”
She arched a brow. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”
“I absolutely have a plan, terran.” His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “We’re gonna find a decent spot to shelter, scrounge up some food that doesn’t taste like ass, and then figure out how I’m going to kill every one of those Zulka bastards that didn’t die in the crash.”
A shiver ran up Yuri’s spine. She didn’t know if it had been caused by the way he stroked her lip, the desire burnin
g in his eyes, or the promise of violence in his tone.
Seeming to know the effect he had on Yuri, Thargen released her and stepped back. He took a few seconds to locate the fallen pieces of his manacles and throw them deep into the woods before returning to his backpack. After a bit of fiddling with the loops and fasteners, he hung both hardlight axes from his waist, their hafts secured along the outsides of his thighs. He hooked sheathed knives on the waistband of his pants, closed his pack, and swung it up onto his shoulders. A few adjustments to the straps had the backpack snugly in place.
When Yuri put on her backpack, he helped tighten its straps to grant her a more comfortable fit, his large hands surprisingly precise and delicate. By the time he was done, she barely noticed the weight on her back.
Thargen walked forward, twisting his head to look over his shoulder and say, “On my ass, terran.”
“On it,” Yuri replied, setting off behind him.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before she was forced to face the truth—no matter how much she wanted to be, she most assuredly was not on his ass.
Thargen’s strides were long—it felt like she had to take two steps for every one of his—and the exhaustion that had forced him to stop earlier seemed to have no effect on him now. Yuri’s body, on the other hand, reminded her that it was aching and tired with her every movement, no matter how tiny. She was sore in places she hadn’t even known existed. But more immediate was the new pain on the soles of her feet. The red grass had been as soft as fluffed cotton, but that grass wasn’t everywhere—especially not in the thicker parts of the forest.
The fallen needles from the trees blanketed wide sections of the forest floor. They were stiff, and often lay flat enough to avoid poking—but when one of them did jab her foot, it felt stepping on a damned nail. The stone they crossed over only provided relief when it was covered in soft patches of lichen; much of the rock itself was rough and uneven and wouldn’t have felt nice even if her feet hadn’t been stabbed a hundred times already.
Savage Desire (The Infinite City Book 4) Page 16
